'Well, Johnny, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later, so you
may as well tell me now. Was it Tina Minetti?'

'I cannot say.'

'Was it Teresa Volpe?'

'I'll never tell.'

'Was it Nina Capelli?'

'I'm sorry, but I cannot name her.'

'Was it Cathy Piriano?'

'My lips are sealed.'

'Was it Rosa Di Angelo, then?'

'Please, Father, I cannot tell you.'

The priest sighs in frustration. 'You're very tight-lipped, Johnny Parisi, and I admire that. But you've sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar boy now for four months. Now you go and behave yourself.'

Johnny walks back to his pew, and his friend Nino slides over and whispers, 'What'd you get?'